#AmericanWriters
343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.
50 I haven’t told my garden yet— Lest that should conquer me. I haven’t quite the strength now To break it to the Bee—
STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
378 I saw no Way—The Heavens were st… I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemisphere… I touched the Universe—